“Who is this?” #letunclebyakuyashine
@honorascent / meme / accepting!
THE ‘ MOM! ’ THAT RINGS THROUGHOUT THE HOUSE is by no means a surprise ------- in fact, she had practically expected it the second that familiar timbre graced her ears. “ah, kuchiki-san!” she greets kindly, fondness already spreading through her core and alighting the apples of her cheeks ----- painting the fair skin there in shades of gentle pink. there’s a pair of hands suddenly clinging fast to the hem of her dress. tiny fingers digging in just as fiercely in their uncertainty of the would-be stranger as hers once did in her youth.
“welcome back.” hinata continues, her own hand raising to cup reassuringly over the crown of her daughter’s head, and that amiable smile of hers only grows as she takes notice of how himawari’s curiosity has started to outweigh her wariness. no doubt spurred on by the warmth and recognition in her mother’s tone.
how long had it been since his last visit? for some reason, she hadn’t thought it to be so long that he had missed the birth of both her son and her daughter. but, then again, time surely did fly with little ones merrily biding all that she had to give. it dawns on her exactly how much he’s missed over the years, and in truth, hinata’s unsure of where to start.
not that she needed worry over something so trivial at the moment, for the initial cause of the outburst makes himself known with just as much flare as his father. a glower casing over his features. one that she amusedly thinks would put sasuke’s own to shame. he’s standing; poised in the crook of the kitchen’s entrance. arms crossed and chest puffed out. protectively, her mind supplies during the spectacle of it all. “you must be tired, please, why don’t you have a seat? i’ll make some tea..” she hums, her gaze contently drifting between her surrogate brother and her son.
it takes no time at all to start the brew, and once the cup is placed before him she begins. swiping the edges of her dress to one side as she takes the seat beside him. true to the form of an old habit, her gaze skirts away from him. however, instead of resting on the cusps of her shoes like it once would, she’s taken to her daughter. lifting the small child from her spot on the floor beside them to that of her lap.
“kuchiki-san, i’d like to introduce you to my daughter, himawari, and that-------” the movement is small and fluid as she gestures to the boy hovering just a few feet away. “is my son, boruto.”
